


candy rocks

by sunkissedhao



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 21:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10475136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkissedhao/pseuds/sunkissedhao
Summary: When Minghao was younger, he used to eat by these little candy rocks by the handful, the kind that exploded in his mouth and left his tongue tingling pleasantly.  Minghao thinks that’s exactly what he feels to be around Mingyu, like eating a mouthful of those candy rocks, except the explosions have spread outwards from the top of his head down to the tips of his fingers and even into the tiny space behind his bellybutton.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was a little thing i posted on tumblr originally and i decided to move it here!  
> writing this made me realize what a huge piece of trash i am for gyuhao lmao ;;

It’s the summer after Mingyu’s seventeenth birthday and the summer before Minghao’s when they first hold hands. It’s under the safe darkness of a small viewing room at the local cinema and Minghao can’t for the life of him remember the name of the movie they’re watching but he’s glad that it’s an action one with enough explosions and gunfire to cover up the deafening sound of his heart roughly pounding against his rib cage. Mingyu’s palm is slick with sweat and his fingers with popcorn butter and Minghao thinks he should probably be really disgusted by that, thinks maybe if he wasn’t freaking out (because _oh my god Mingyu is holding my hand_ and _what if someone sees_ ), maybe Minghao would slide his hand out of Mingyu’s with a grimace, shove a stack of napkins into Mingyu's lap with some offhanded, snide comment, and go back to watching the movie like nothing had happened. But Minghao _is_ freaking out, so he does none of those things. Instead, he lets Mingyu hold his hand and lets himself hold Mingyu’s, looking away from the large movie screen only four times to try to memorize the way the soft light reflecting off the screen cradles the mountains and valleys of Mingyu’s profile. 

There’s a lot of firsts that happen that summer. Some are normal firsts like Minghao finally passing his permit test and driving by himself for the first time, and getting his first part-time job at a local restaurant bussing tables, but a lot of the firsts that summer involve Mingyu in some way. Minghao doesn’t know when it started to be like this, can’t pinpoint the exact moment when Mingyu went from just being a friend - someone he tolerated more than anything and sometimes played video games with on the weekends - to being the sole person who could light Minghao’s skin on fire. Because every time he reaches for Mingyu’s hand or feels his own hand being reached for, Minghao feels thrill of nervousness race up his arm and kick-start his heart into double time. And he can’t remember when they went from playing half-assed games of pickup basketball in their neighbors’ driveways to spending their evenings sitting on swings in an empty playground, just the two of them, their voices low and warm, a million stars haloing their heads. 

When Minghao was younger, he used to eat by these little candy rocks by the handful, the kind that exploded in his mouth and left his tongue tingling pleasantly. Minghao thinks that’s exactly what he feels to be around Mingyu, like eating a mouthful of those candy rocks, except the explosions have spread outwards from the top of his head down to the tips of his fingers and even into the tiny space behind his bellybutton. 

They unknowingly gravitate towards each other that summer. Not that they didn’t hang out a lot before they... well, just... before, but suddenly Minghao notices the spaces in between his fingers when Mingyu’s aren’t filling them or the way the gentle hum of his bedroom’s ceiling fan seems so loud without Mingyu’s constant chattering masking the noise. So they make time to see each other. Sometimes during his lunch break, Minghao will run over to the coffee shop down the road to bother Mingyu as he serves up drink after drink to a long line of customers during the lunch rush. Because Mingyu gets off work first, he’ll stop by the restaurant bringing with him some too-sugary drink and a muffin that he sneaks Minghao when the manager isn't paying attention, and when Minghao gets off of work a few hours later, he’ll always find Mingyu sitting on a bench outside the restaurant waiting to walk him home with crinkling eyes and canines showing. 

Sometimes, on the rare days when neither of them are working, like one Tuesday in the middle of July when the weather outside is sweltering and Minghao spends the majority of the morning just lying in bed with his fan turned to the highest setting, Mingyu shows up at Minghao’s house unannounced. Minghao opens the door to find him standing there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his khakis and lips stretched into a brilliant smile. “Hey.” 

Minghao smiles back, smaller, hoping that Mingyu can’t tell that his heart is having a hard time keeping a steady beat. He opens the door slightly wider, letting in a wave of suffocating humidity into the air-conditioned house. “Hey, wanna play-” 

“Let’s go to the grocery store,” Mingyu interrupts. 

Minghao stops, blinks up at Mingyu’s grinning face. “What?” 

They spend the next few minutes arguing over whether to go or not. Mingyu pouts, Minghao curses, and a few moments later they’re walking side by side down the driveway of Minghao’s house. They walk close enough for their bare arms and shoulders to bump into the other’s and Minghao pretends not to notice as he scans the piece of paper in his hands that Mingyu had offered him. 

“This is a shopping list,” Minghao says, looking up at Mingyu with thinly veiled annoyance. “You’re making me help you do your chores.” 

Mingyu grins sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck before reaching over to pluck the paper from Minghao’s hands. He folds it carefully as he talks, places the paper into his back pocket. “I thought it would be more fun if you came with me.” 

Mingyu looks up at Minghao when he finishes talking, smiling, and Minghao feels his heart stop beating for an unhealthy amount of time. Minghao shoves his shoulder into Mingyu’s, making some comment under his breath about being used that makes Mingyu laugh. Minghao feels his own lips curl upwards and when Mingyu’s fingers brush purposefully against his, Minghao tilts his palm to accept the other’s into his easily, tastes something unidentifiable and sweet spread across his tongue and settle warmly in the pit of his stomach. 


End file.
